Mummy!
by Speculatrix
Summary: Crack ending for the cliffhanger from "The Great Game." Sherlock, John, Jim, OC and a text appearance from Irene. NO SLASH!


**Mummy!**

**Disclaimer: **BBC Sherlock belongs to Mofftiss. OC is mine and will never turn up again. But feel free to use her if you want. *winks* And this is my first Sherlock fic ever. So please be nice enough to read and review! I just hope I haven't stolen this idea from anyone else in the fandom. Plus, NO SLASH DONE HERE!

Sherlock Holmes' eyes darted cautiously from Jim Moriarty to the jacket-bomb in front of him. Jim maintained a cool façade on the outside, but Sherlock could see that his cold, dark eyes were tense with anticipation. Jim waited, not even caring to let his life flash past his eyes. If a life at all. The shock that Dr John Watson had shrugged off after Sherlock had got the bomb off his weary shoulders returned. He was sitting on a nearby bench, but even then his legs seemed to have fallen asleep. Sherlock took aim with both hands holding onto his gun. The unseen snipers in the balcony above tensed. It was either one life, or three. Or...

Footsteps above the three men's heads suddenly, hurriedly fled. The red laser targets disappeared. Sherlock couldn't believe it. The snipers were actually running away! Question is...from what?

"WAIT! COME BACK!" Yelled Jim. He flailed his arms in desperation and ran forward, past the bomb, past Sherlock and John. "GUYS, DON'T GO! GET BACK HERE OR I'LL...I'LL...I'LL SEND SNIPERS AFTER YOU!" John snickered to himself at the irony. Sherlock was still holding onto the gun, though. He actually knew what the snipers were running away from and the answer was hiding in the shadows, only visible to the detective himself.

"Gurr! WHY! WHA-HY!" Jim face-palmed with both hands as he ran back to where he was standing, in front of Sherlock. He jumped around angrily like a garden gnome come to life for a moment, then looked up at Sherlock with a pale face. And pulled a gun out of his coat.

"At least _I_ won't miss this time!"

Sherlock laughed quietly, "You won't be missing anything today. But I see you've missed quite a lot as well." He glanced at the shadows. What, or who, he saw was not there. In fact, she was standing three steps behind Jim.

John got up as soon as he saw her, a look of disbelief on his face. Then he turned to Sherlock, who did likewise. And then he got the joke. And they both started laughing.

"What did I miss?" Jim asked in a quiet and dangerous voice. Then he loudly added, "WHAT IS IT?"

"Yo-yo-your-you're in t-t-t-" John stuttered through his laughter.

"WHAT?"

"You're in trouble, Jim," Sherlock sang. Yes, _sang_.

"Aww, c'mon! I've fallen for this before!" Jim said. He was looking annoyed now. Seems like the consulting criminal didn't believe the detective and doctor. Too bad. He added, "I mean, what could possibly..."

He was interrupted by a shrill heavily-English voice, "HAH! There you are, James, my boy!"

Jim froze, recognizing that voice. It couldn't be. His second worst nightmare. He turned around to face...His _mother_.

Mrs Moriarty was quite the wild card. Her white hair was tied up in a bouffant, she was scowling and she held a walking-stick similar to John's. Let's just say she looked like Spongebob's Grandma with Jim's face, only with wrinkles, Barbie-pink lipstick, a floral dress, stillettos and a huge pearl necklace. John stood next to Sherlock, both with evil grins on their faces.

"M-mummy! What're _you_ doing here?" Jim squeaked, trying to actually be _nice_, as he tried to step back, only for his legs to turn to jelly.

Mrs Moriarty pointed her stick in her pitiful son's face, as she shrilled, "I'm here, because you never _write_, you never _call_, you never do that computer thing kids do nowadays, what'sit'sname, yee-wail?"

"It's _e-mail_, Mrs Moriarty," Sherlock graciously butted in. He added, "And I'm..."

"HAH! You're that Sherlock boy! The one James wants to ruin, right?" Sherlock nodded. The lady saw John and added, "And...and...what'shisface...The medical kid..." "John Watson. It's a pleasure. I think, " John replied as he shook hands with the lady, which he regretted, as she was way stronger than she looked. Stronger than the son perhaps? Maybe.

"And where do _you _think _you're _goin', young man?" She shrilled instantly. Jim, who was tiptoeing away as quietly as he could, froze for a moment before breaking into a run.

Sherlock immediately put a foot forward, but Mrs Moriarty stopped him, "I've got this, dearie." What happened next had Sherlock and John wanting to bleach their brains the moment they got home.

The Moriarty matriarch took aim and fired...her walking stick, which flew through the air and tangled itself in the consulting criminal's legs, making him stumble and fall with a girly scream. He cowered as his mother approached him and stood over him with the dreaded stick.

"Now where was I? You never call, you never write, you never send even an_ e-mail_ and you never _VISIT!" _The last word was spat out in contempt...and spit.

"M-mummy, I c-c-can explain...huh...huh..." Jim squeaked, as he looked up in horror at the old woman.

"HAH! DON'T! I like it that way!" She retorted.

"You don't?" asked John innocently. Sherlock discreetly elbowed him.

"Of course not, Doctor," she replied just as innocently, adding contemptuously, "The last thing I want is _him _bothering me!"

"Then, what _do _you want, Mummy?" Jim asked, now standing upright and feeling bold enough to stand up for himself. Or so he thought. "You want to help me kill them? Or will I leave you to do it yourself?" It was now John's turn to discreetly elbow Sherlock.

"Well, my boy, not really what you were hoping for...Come closer," she beckoned and Jim foolishly complied, wishing for a great big scandal in Downing Street. Instead, she grabbed her son by the ear and went into shrill voice mode:

"YOU LEFT WITHOUT TIDYING YOUR ROOM, NITWIT!"

"He _lives _with you?" asked John incredulously.

"Of course he does. His father would be here too, but I murdered him last week."

"Cheated on you, did he?" Sherlock asked. The old broad nodded, "Yeah, I killed his male bimbo too."

"Ouch! OW! YOU COULD HAVE LET _ME _DO IT!" Jim shrieked in agony. "Shut up, you rascal, you were too busy strapping bombs on old ladies! Besides, you haven't met Darren yet."

"Who's Darren?" asked Jim, Sherlock and John in unison.

"My new boyfriend!"

"You have a BOYFRIEND?" Jim and John yelled in one voice. "Aaaaah, my mother's a cougar!" Jim yelled in anguish, "OUCH! Mummy, stop!"

"Well, boys, we better get going. James, what do you say to Sherlock?" The Moriarty matriarch asked in a camp sweet-old-loving-mother voice.

"Sorry...Wrong day to die...You'll be hearing from me Sherlock..." Jim said, trying to ignore the throbbing in his ear as his mother held it.

"Did he get a better offer, Mrs Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, eyes narrowed.

"Why, yes he did. I got a text from a family acquaintace." She took her iPhone out (Without letting go of Jim's ear) and showed him a text:

_You'll find him at Bristol South Pool. Tell him I'll call him. Got him a little treat. _We really should have dinner sometime. __

Sherlock nodded. "By the way, this one can be deactivated by cutting the green wire."

"Of course, ma'am, I noticed."

"Toodle-pip, sonny-boys!" With that, she hobbled off like a boss on her walking-stick, all the while dragging her son by the ear. The door shut behind them.

"What happened there?" John asked.

"Someone changed his mind. Question is...who?" Sherlock asked.

"Beats me."

"Hmph. Come on, we've got a bomb to freeze."

**FIN**


End file.
